Monday, December 17, 2007

Along For The Ride

by Iola Foxx

“So where do you get off?”

“The fifth stop.”

I grab the first window seat. I hate taking the bus. It’s agonizingly boring, so I stare at traffic and imagine I can fly over it all, or turn into a cheetah and zip between vehicles, or sometimes--


“Huh? What?”

“You just missed your stop.”

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